


Can I tell you a secret?

by offensiveagentpie



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Disney Movies, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, Kisses, M/M, Secrets, Tumblr Prompt, i'm a sap, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 17:50:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2397350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offensiveagentpie/pseuds/offensiveagentpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann should feel guilty wasting valuable work time, but with the next Breach event more than 3 months away, he finds himself hard pressed to care that he’s a full grown, certified genius sitting in bed with someone with the same credentials, who’s singing along off key to ‘Prince Ali’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can I tell you a secret?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellenterprise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellenterprise/gifts).



> For [ellenterprise](http://ellenterprise.tumblr.com) who requested- “Newmann - “Can I tell you a secret?”" This is my first time writing this pairing, so hold on to your butts.

-oOo-

It starts late one night or, depending on who you ask, very early one morning in the mess hall. No one is present save for the two K-Scientists and a handful of engineers, filling up on coffee for more unending shifts.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Newton asks. He’s slumped almost sideways on the bench, keeping his upper half pressed to the table, with his head down and cushioned on his folded arm. He’s looking at Hermann with the spaced out daze of someone running on their last reserves of energy.

Hermann takes a moment to say a silent prayer for Newton’s spine, and forces himself to sit up a bit straighter, grimacing at the pull of tired and tense muscles.

"I have the distinct feeling that you will, regardless of my answer," he says dryly. There’s no real menace to it though.

Newton huffs out a laugh. “You’ve got me there. Anyway,” he says, pulling himself up slightly. “I broke my wrist when I was four. I told everyone that I was trying to get the neighbor’s cat out of the tree, but in reality, despite being a genius even at that age, I honestly and truly thought that if I got high enough, and flapped my arms hard enough, I could fly like a bird.”

Hermann stares blankly at him. “And you felt the need to tell me this at 3:47am, why?”

"I just got to thinking," Newton says with a shrug. "I realized that outside my dad and uncle, I don’t really have that many people that know a lot about me. And with the world possibly coming to an end, I wanted to get some things out on the table, tell a friend or something," he smiles sadly, and in that moment he looks both younger and more vulnerable than Hermann has ever seen, and at the same time, so old and so tired.

An odd swirling sensation starts beneath Hermann’s ribs and he finds himself at a loss to say anything other than, “I see.”

A moment of silence falls, and for a while it almost seems expectant on Newt’s end. But when no further words are forthcoming, he stands with a groan, bids Hermann good night and leaves the mess hall.

—

They’ve been in the lab for 3 hours the next morning when Hermann pointedly clears his throat. 

"During the summer when I was six, I found a turtle in my grandmother’s garden," he says without preamble. From the corner of his eye, he watches Newton’s focus shift up to the top of the ladder where he’s standing. 

"I was absolutely fascinated by him. I named him Werner and, sad as it is in hindsight, I count him as my first real friend. I kept him in a little area behind the garden shed for almost three weeks before my grandmother found him. She was always a rather nervous and anxious woman, and when she found out about Werner she became rather cross with me, rambling on about diseases that I’d get from playing with such a filthy animal. She called her neighbor over, a rather crude man, and told him to take care of it. I begged and pleaded for her to let me keep him, or at least take him to the small stream that ran through the woods behind her house, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I have no idea what happened to him once he was taken away. I’d like to think that he was released into the woods, but with what I know of that neighbor’s behavior, I have my doubts. There are still nights, especially when I find it hard to sleep, that I find myself agonizing over whatever became of him."

He pauses, aware of the silence that fills the lab. For a moment he cannot believe that he’s talked that long over a turtle, nor can he believe that his hands are shaking slightly on the ladder’s rungs. He looks over and down to find Newton smiling warmly at him. “Thanks, Hermann,” is all he says.

—

From then on, they go back and forth sharing stories of their lives.

Some get them laughing. Newton’s story of being picked after a kid with a broken leg to play kick ball in gym class, makes Hermann actually tear up with mirth. He’d feel bad in any other circumstance, but the way Newton tells it, laughing himself, makes the reaction contagious.

Hermann’s own story, of smacking the assistant Dean of his first Master’s program on the ass for a drunken dare, actually makes Newton snort the apple juice he’d been drinking out of his nose.

Sometimes, it leads to arguments which they both secretly enjoy and find stimulating, despite being about admittedly dumb subjects. Once, they get into a legitimate yelling match over which Monty Python sketch is superior: ‘How Not to Be Seen’ or, ironically enough, ‘Argument Clinic’.

It goes on for weeks, sometimes they share actual secrets, other times it’s little facts. Newton’s favorite color is blue, Hermann’s is green. Newton’s favorite food is good old fashioned roast beef and potatoes, Hermann’s is freshly baked and still warm blackberry pie. Newton’s favorite Harry Potter character is Hagrid, Hermann’s is Lupin. Hermann has never known more about another human being in his life.

Eventually, though, they discover more similarities than differences. And when they both discover their love for movies from Disney’s Renaissance, (“Oh my god, Hermann, Beauty and the Beast is totally my favorite princess movie too!”), Newton hesitantly breaches the subject of a movie night.

“I’ve got almost all of them on my lap top,” Newton says, his ears are red and he’s rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous fury. “You’re more than welcome to come to my quarters, we can watch whatever you want, if you want, that is. It doesn’t matter to me, you’re totally invited though, I don’t mind if you, that is, you should…I’m rambling and I’m going to stop now,” he says in a rush.

Hermann fights a smile, “That sounds wonderful, Newton. Is 21:00 acceptable?”

Across the lab, he sees Newton visibly sag with relief. “Yeah, dude, that’s totally fine.”

Hermann turns back to his computer, heart fluttering in his chest.

—

They settle on Aladdin. Sitting on Newton’s bed, they’re pressed side-to-side with the lap top and a bowl of stale potato chips between them.

Hermann should feel guilty wasting valuable work time, but with the next Breach event more than 3 months away, he finds himself hard pressed to care that he’s a full grown, certified genius sitting in bed with someone with the same credentials, who’s singing along off key to ‘Prince Ali’.

Eventually, when Aladdin is pushed up to kiss Princess Jasmine on the balcony, the solid warmth that is Newton squirms against him. “So…” he clears his throat. “I’ve got another secret.”

Hermann turns his head to look at him, Newton chews nervously on his bottom lip. “I’ve only ever been kissed once. It lasted, like, 2 seconds and it was for a picture to be taken for a scavenger hunt.”

Newton flushes red and darts his eyes toward Hermann. “And…um. Another one is that, I’ve kind of really wanted to kiss you since you told me about your secret pet turtle, but fair warning, I’m probably going to be terrible because one scavenger hunt kiss does not a good kisser make…”

Hermann can feel his own face go blotchy and red as he leans towards Newton. “Well…I suppose it’s my turn then, and I suppose, secretly I wouldn’t mind if you did, terrible or not.”

“Oh,” Newton says breathless as their lips press together. And if they spend the rest of the night becoming even more familiar with each other, they keep it a shared secret.

**Author's Note:**

> Omg this is all over the place. And the ending is just terrible, I’m so sorry. I also made it a subtle game of: 'Which of the boys’ secrets are actually mine that I wrote into the story?' The world may never know.
> 
> Also, I am ALWAYS up for taking prompts. Drop me a message here or on tumblr [here](http://offensiveagentpie.tumblr.com).


End file.
